Alone
by Sparkle Itamashii
Summary: A squeal pierced the night, freezing him in his tracks. "Laura," he whispered, twisting to look over his shoulder in the direction from which he'd come. She was in trouble.


Author: Sparkle Itamashii

Title: Alone

Notes: Another meant to take place during an episode, specifically the premier before we meet Derek for the first time. I feel so bad for him :(

* * *

**Alone**

The woods around him howled with silence as he thundered through them, ears straining for the sound of a heartbeat, a breath, the crush of a leaf beneath a clawed paw. In the distance the memory of his sister's footpads echoed, the rasp of her words as she told him to run. Her fear had been so thick he could smell it on her, tangy and unfamiliar, stinging his sensitive nose. He hadn't questioned her, his will bowing to the mist of red in her eyes.

The creature had been ghosting through the woods for the past two days, always slipping through their grasp before they could reach it. Derek had returned home only a year after moving away, worried sick when he had been unable to reach her by phone for over a week; if she was missing, there was no good result he could imagine.

When he had turned up on her doorstep, she had been scattered, nerves frayed. She'd been hunting, but without direction, without knowing what she was hunting. Laura told him that whatever it was, it smelled familiar. Derek suggested perhaps it was the Hunters, returned to finish the job they had started 6 years ago; exterminating the Hale family. She disagreed, saying that if they were returning, they would do so publicly. She would have heard something about it.

That evening they had heard a long, deep challenge howled, and she had recognized it. One of them; a werewolf. Not someone here to join their pack, but someone here to take their territory. The fear in her voice was enough to send his heart trembling; his sister was strong and fierce and young. Anything that could beat her with him at her side would have to be a terrifying force.

He wanted to fight.

She told him to run.

The forest floor flew past his feet as he obeyed.

A squeal pierced the night, freezing him in his tracks. "Laura," he whispered, twisting to look over his shoulder in the direction from which he'd come. She was in trouble. The vicious snarls of a fight filtered through the night air. The desire to return to fight warred with the orders he had been given in no uncertain terms. Another shriek decided him, and he spun around to follow the noise.

The scents were confused, moving erratically, circling, weaving. He found himself back at the burned out shell of his home, the forest silent. A long howl sounded in the distance, a moment before sirens began to whine down in the town. He tilted his head, strained to hear any sign that the fight was still on between his sister and the stranger. The drift of wind brought to him the scent of blood. Family blood.

He crouched, eyes closed, fighting off the memories which threatened to claw their way from where he had locked them. The bones in the basement, the acrid smoke and burned flesh smell that permeated what had been his safe haven, a place of love and family. It was as if someone had hit him in the chest.

Only the rabid sounds of renewed fighting snapped him back to the present. He pointed his nose to the sky, picked up the trace of blood, and began to run once more. They were on the move far away from him, and the sirens were drawing nearer; had she called them? Had someone else heard the fighting? Some human on the road seen them, perhaps?

There was a sharp crack and the fighting split once more. Derek could hear footpads sprinting off in one direction, hear the labored breathing of his sister from where she crouched. He burst into the small clearing, found her on her knees, clawed hands clutching her side, forehead pressed into the ground. He was keenly aware that he had disobeyed her orders, but just as aware that she was in need of help. The wounds on her side smelled of the deep blood, of scraped organs and splintered bone. She was in enough pain she couldn't focus to heal it quickly.

"Laura," he said softly, taking a tentative step toward her. "It's me, Laura."

Her shoulders slumped slightly and her disappointment was nearly tangible. A soft noise escaped her, perhaps a sigh, and he rushed to her side. Splayed a hand over her shoulder blade, crouched at her side protectively. Pressed his nose against the side of her head, whispered that she needed to focus and heal enough so that they could move away from such an exposed space.

So absorbed in her pain was he, that he barely registered her choked whisper.

"What?" he asked, straining to hear her.

"Trap," she repeated, even as the blow from behind sent him into darkness.

* * *

When he came to, the quiet murmur of human speech that invaded his senses was almost overwhelmed by the stench of blood. Her blood. His blood. Blood he didn't recognize, from more than one person. He drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes, shook his head to speed the healing of the throbbing bump on the back of it. Human blood. The sweet smell of werewolf venom laced through the acrid smell of human fear.

Pulling himself to his feet, he scanned the area. The leaves on the forest floor around him were spattered with blood, but his sister was nowhere to be found. He could tell by her trail that she had walked away from the place; at least he thought so for a moment, until he saw that the footprints were just too big, too deep. Someone had carried her away. The same person, he guessed, that had hit him hard enough to send him unconscious.

His eyes yellowed and his features contorted, fangs lengthening at the thought that someone had hurt his sister, taken her away from him.

It was at that moment that the noise the humans were making actually registered; there were many humans on his hunting grounds. He lifted his eyes from the ground and made out the faint glimmer of police car lights, the wave of a flashlight beam through the distant trees. He took only a moment to decide that he had to know what they were doing here; whether they were related to what had happened.

They were pathetically easy to sneak up upon, to remain unseen by the two men leaning against trees talking in low voices. Surrounding himself with a cloak of darkness, Derek crouched nearby to listen.

"-Half a body... ridiculous," finished the shorter of the two, raising a thermos to his lips.

"What do you suppose happened to the other half? Do you think we'll find it too?" asked the second.

A chill ran up Derek's spine. They had found _half_ a body? The intruder... or his sister? A sinking feeling grasped at his insides. Laura was strong but... strong enough to rip another werewolf in half?

"Don't know," replied the first officer. "I don't know if I hope so or not either. The animal that kept the other half might still be around."

"I don't know any animal that splits a person in half and leaves," declared the second officer, taking a sip of his own drink. The scent of coffee flooded Derek's nose. Bad coffee. Police station coffee.

"You saw the bite marks," the first replied, twisting the top of his thermos to close it. "Had to be an animal. Come on, let's get back to the others. These woods creep me out."

Derek watched them go, sorting through their words for any indication that his sister had been the one they'd found and coming up empty handed. Briefly he gave consideration to finding where they had put the first half, but he decided that humans don't like to leave bodies lying around; they would have sent whatever they found back to the town. It wouldn't do any good to follow their paths through the forest, either. They clearly hadn't found anything else, so anywhere they had been was wrong.

The scent of human blood tickled at his sense once more, and he decided that was the course to pursue. Someone had been bitten by the intruder, and that meant someone had found the intruder. He couldn't place the werewolf's scent amongst the rest, but he could follow the blood.

He didn't have to follow it far. Barely a hundred yards the scent merged with that of his sister and her blood, of the blood of the intruder, the scent of venom. He dropped to all fours, bounding through the forest at inhuman speeds, his rage building with every leap, every flex of his long body. If she was hurt, if she was _dead_- his thoughts faltered at the word, unable to fathom it.

If she was dead, he would be alone.

The realization hit him even as he cleared the last trees and met her eyes, scrambled to a stop beside her. Retched at the scent of decay that had not traveled far from her torn remains. His breath lodged in his throat, strangling his cry of despair into a choked breath.

"Laura..."

* * *

_ Sunlight streamed through the leaves above, dappling the forest floor beneath. His eyes were closed as he lay sprawled beside her, a smile gracing his lips as she spoke. Often they would escape the house together, take off into the woods and play. She was older than him by almost a decade, but she was gentle and patient and he was eager to learn the things their parents had taught her. When they were gone she would be alpha of their pack._

_ "Derek, are you even listening?" she asked him, poking him in the ribcage._

_ He squeaked and opened his bright blue eyes. "Yes, I'm listening Laura. I don't need my _eyes_ open to listen!"_

_ "You don't need your _mouth_ open either!" she countered cheerfully. "Ok smarty pants, tell me how you would handle being caught by a human." She leaned over him, blocking the sunlight. "In your _true_ form."_

_ "I wouldn't _let_ anyone catch me in my true form!" he declared. "But... I guess if they did, I would tell them the sun was in their eyes."_

_ "And if it was night?"_

_ "Well, I was in the shadows, how can anyone be sure what they saw?"_

_ "Maybe they are very sure! Maybe you let them take a picture."_

_ His nose wrinkled. "Only a stupid wolf would let a human take a picture of him."_

_ She smiled, ruffled his mop of black hair. "And you're not stupid, are you." It wasn't a question._

_ "You either," he told her quickly. "You're going to be the Alpha someday, Laura." The admiration in his six year old voice was unmistakable. "And no one will ever be able to beat you then!"_

_ Laughing, she rolled over so that she was on her hands and feet, let her features change. Her golden eyes locked on his. "Let's test it, little brother! I'll race you back!"_

_ He scrambled to morph even as she leapt clear over him, and gave chase._

* * *

He couldn't reconcile the smiling, vibrant woman his sister had been with the ravaged half a corpse that lay half buried in the leaves before him. Half a step toward her sent him stumbling, hands splayed into the dirt as he fell at her side. A high keen began at the back of his throat, cut short by the sound of a dog barking. The police were coming. They would find her, and take her away from him. They would find out what she was... what he was.

He had to move her. Take her home.

Wrapping his hands around her wrists, he began to drag.

* * *

_The stench of smoke and burning flesh scalded his nostrils and he held the oxygen mask to his face once more to block it. Laura leaned into his side, a mask over her face as well. They hadn't been inside, but cops hadn't gotten a word out of either of them yet and, seeing both of them bloody and covered in soot, had assumed they had somehow escaped. It wasn't true. They had been trying to claw their way in through the barricades, through the bars and stone and wood of the burning prison._

_ Their whole family, dead._

_ A shout rose above the sound of milling and sorting, and the paramedics that had been watching over Derek and his sister began to move for the house. He glanced to his sister, saw her focused on the smoldering rubble with an intensity that told him she could hear better than he could. He closed his eyes, strained to hear... a heartbeat._

_ They stood by, watching as the scorched body of their uncle was pulled from the wreckage of the house. A stone cellar room, partially protected from the blaze, had saved him. Judging by the burns covering his body, Derek doubted how thankful his uncle was going to be to be alive when he regained consciousness. The ambulance screamed away from them through the forest._

_ So close were they that they saw what was next to be dragged from the rubble; the small body of a young cousin, a girl of only eight. Unrecognizable, except by the faint, familiar scent he could detect through the reek of burned flesh. Bone showed through white and black, and without listening he knew there would be no heartbeat there._

_ "Why do they hate us?" he asked quietly of his sister, eyes riveted on the human firefighters as they carried the body from the skeleton of the house._

_ Laura looked over to him, gave a sad smile. Laid her hand upon his head gently. "They don't hate us, little brother," she told him._

_ "The hunters do," he insisted, feeling his chest constrict at the very thought of the Argents. Kate, with her soft eyes and exhilarating touch. "To do this..." He swallowed, choking back the rest of the words. _To betray me...

_ "No," she told him gently. "They fear us, Derek. They are afraid to let us be the ones to turn on them."_

_ "We wouldn't turn on them," he cried, spreading a hand out to indicate the horror before them. "We would never do this!"_

_ "We never would," she agreed. "We still won't."_

_ His lips peeled back from his sharp teeth, his eyes golden. "I would now."_

_ Red touched her eyes as she, for the first time, commanded her fresh power as Alpha. "You won't." Instantly he ducked his head, features smoothing and returning to normal. She sighed, disguising her true self once more. "To take revenge for this, to harm them, would only cause them to believe their actions were justified. If you want to punish them... let them live with the guilt. I will let them know that there were humans in there; human children, no less."_

_ He watched the humans shift the rubble, overturn a sooty beam. Another body. Four so far. He huddled closer to Laura, thankful that they had escaped the same fate. That, if nothing else, he was not alone._

* * *

His nails ached with every scoop of dirt, every clawful he tore from the earth. There were no shovels at his house, none close enough that he would not risk having her body discovered while he retrieved it. He dug anyway, soil pushing up beneath his claws every time he plunged fingers into the grave, shoulders protesting with every flex as he pulled scoops from the bottom. His ears strained to hear any sign of people approaching, for any sign of the abomination that had done this to his sister. Rot filled his nose, making him feel sick.

Tears cleaned streaks down his cheeks that he did not bother to scrub.

Still he dug.

* * *

_"Again," she ordered, calculating as he judged the distance, came at her with claws and teeth bared. It was almost easy, how she avoided his attack and left him with a mouthful of dirt. "Again."_

_ Swiping an arm across his face, he swallowed the grit licked off his lips. His heartbeat thrummed across the surface of his skin. It was hot out, late summer, and they had been at this for hours already. "Can't we just-"_

_ "Again!" she insisted. "Derek, you have to be able to fight."_

_ "I thought you said we weren't supposed to hurt anyone," he pointed out, touching his tongue to the cut on his lower lip. His blood was sharp, thirsty._

_ "You have to be able to protect yourself," she told him. "If the Argents ever show their face here again, you can bet it won't be for a friendly reunion."_

_ "Laura, they left with their tails between their legs, afraid someone would figure out what that crazy bitch did to us," he said tiredly. "They're not coming back."_

_ "You're sure of that?" she asked. "You're sure they are the only Hunters out for our blood? I'm not. Again."_

_ Growling, he threw himself at her, ducking beneath her hands as she made to block him. Slipped behind her, cut in low to make her jump, unbalanced her as she landed. A triumphant smile lit his face for a split second before she laid him flat on his back, winded._

_ "Again," she said, smiling._

* * *

He lay huddled in the bottom of the grave, wishing desperately that he could trade places with her. That the pit he had dug would be for him and that his bright eyed, beautiful sister could carry on with her life. She would be alone, but she was strong. She could have found a pack, made a pack, if he had not been with her, taking her time. Perhaps if she'd had a pack at her side when the intruder found her, they could have beaten him.

Without Derek, perhaps she would have still been alive.

Swallowing his grief, he pulled himself out of the grave, caught sight of her face, frozen in a haunted expression of fear. He hadn't been able to protect her. Useless. When the time came, he was useless.

He crouched by her, rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, Laura," he whispered, eyes closing. "I'm so sorry. I should have been stronger."

* * *

_ He lay in wait above her, watching her as she tread carefully through the fall forest. Watched as she raised her nose to the breeze, caught his scent. She knew he was nearby, but she was looking all around instead of up. An exultant feeling rose up inside of him, nearly impossible to repress in order to stay silent._

_ The moment she was under his tree, he dropped down, bringing her crashing to the ground with him. She squealed and rolled him off, leapt to gain the upper hand, and he met her halfway. They traded swipes and then he was gone, back up the side of a tree and coming for her, again from above. This time she dodged and left him with his back to her._

_ A rock hit him square in the back between his shoulder blades, pain flaring temporarily before the bruise healed._

_ "Hey!" he exclaimed. "Really? Throwing rocks?"_

_ "They'll have bows," she told him simply. "Anyway, what are you doing hiding up in trees? It's almost dinner time."_

_ He flopped over onto his back and she paced over until she stood above him, her ankles on either side of his hips. They smiled. "You don't have to feed me, you know," he told her earnestly. "I can fend for myself."_

_ "Eating squirrels doesn't count," she replied. "Come on, we're going to town."_

_ He grabbed her ankles as if he meant to unbalance her, and she braced herself. Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows. "Going to see that pretty boy you've had your eye on at the diner?"_

_ She scowled, but it was less effective over the top of the smile she was trying to hide. "I don't think that's any of your business."_

_ "It's my business," he told her, letting go of her ankles and allowing her to step aside from him. "He could be a part of our pack, right? You could turn him?"_

_ A pained expression crossed her face. "Derek..."_

_ "I know," he said, looking away from her. "We don't bite the people we love, because it might kill them. But... you can't keep him as a human. It never works." He looked up, but she was looking away, in the direction of town. He could practically feel the wave of loneliness emanating from her. They were family, but she wanted a mate. "Sometimes it works, you know. He might change."_

_ "I know," she said softly. "That's the problem."_

* * *

Wrapped in plain burlap because there could be no coffin, the thump of her body against the black dirt ingrained itself into his memory. He would be hearing it in his nightmares tonight, tomorrow, perhaps for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, finally smeared at his cheek to wipe away the grim and tears.

For so long she had schooled him about patience and understanding, about how fighting should always be a defense only. The humans were less powerful, and so it was their job to protect them- even those who hunted them. Neither of them had ever fathomed that it would be one of their own kind that would spill their blood, take their lives. Never had he imagined wanting blood more than he had the day his home had burned.

He wanted it now.

Today, he would bury his sister.

Tomorrow, he would bury her murderer.

The first scoop of ebon dirt spattered against the sack as he began the arduous task of refilling the grave. Handful by handful, he returned her to the earth, hid the crime from the humans so that they would not discover his secret through her. His chest felt tighter and tighter as he refused to let go of his sister, of the last bit of family, the last person who loved him.

_Alone_, whispered every scatter of soil.

* * *

_He curled up at her feet, her slender hand upon his head that first night after the fire. They had nothing until the insurance went through, and she refused to return to the dimly lit motel the police had generously supplied. It stank of humans, she had said, and he couldn't agree more. If there was one peoples neither of them wanted to be around at that moment, it was humans._

_"Good night," he murmured as she stroked his dark, sooty hair._

_ A faint smile graced her beautiful lips. "It will be again, little brother. Sleep now. I'll watch over you."_

_ "All night?" he had asked, feeling like a small child. He knew he should be acting his age but he was just too tired. His family, whatever was left of their bodies, lay locked in a morgue downtown, his home still smoldered dangerously, there were Hunters combing the woods for any escapees, and he hadn't slept the night before. Hadn't eaten since the fire, despite the officers that had insisted they try to eat or drink._

_ "All night," she agreed, leaning her head back against the bark of the tree. She rested her free arm on her knees and continued stroking his hair. They hadn't even showered yet. Tomorrow, perhaps, when they could begin to heal inside as well as out. "I'll protect you now. Forever."_

_ "I'll protect you too," he vowed. "Since we're alone now."_

_ She chuckled, a bare breath of a sound. "We'll never be alone as long as we still have each other."_

* * *

He smoothed the last handful of dirt over her grave, splayed both hands upon the earth and leaned upon them, head hanging. Tears dripped into the dirt, onto his hands. Slowly he let himself sink down until he lay curled on his knees, forehead against the ground, and for the first time let the grief hit him, let the tears come freely.

She was gone.

_Alone._


End file.
